


Burn

by IvyCpher



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Coughing, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders & Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders Are Twins, Crying, Fire, Flowers, Gen, Hanahaki Disease, Hurt Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Hurt No Comfort, Language of Flowers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-17
Updated: 2020-08-17
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:28:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25947352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IvyCpher/pseuds/IvyCpher
Summary: Remus doesn't even know he's in love with Patton until he starts coughing up peony petals. He's contracted Hanahaki disease and he knows that that means Patton must not love him back.
Comments: 9
Kudos: 49





	Burn

**Author's Note:**

  * For [screamingatstars](https://archiveofourown.org/users/screamingatstars/gifts).



Remus had just finished up a night full of good old-fashioned grave robbing in his part of the Imagination. Dawn was breaking and turning the inky black sky light in the horizon; but just like garbage in the ocean, stars still littered the heavens. He was pushing a wheelbarrow full of assorted limbs and body parts back to his room for an array of fun when suddenly he was coughing and coughing hard.

Dropping his wheelbarrow, Remus put his hand over his mouth so he might catch whatever it was he was coughing on. His lungs felt like they were full of starving ants that were sinking their pincers into every cell of every piece of tissue that his lungs were composed of and his throat felt like he had just swallowed hot candle wax. Had Remus not been so consumed by the pain of his coughing fit, he would have been wildly guessing to what he was coughing up. Because out of all of the things Remus had coughed up- and he had coughed up a good many things,  _ none  _ of them felt like what he was coughing up then.

Then just as abruptly Remus' cough had begun, it stopped.

Heaving, Remus opened his eyes and looked at his open palm. Along with many flecks of spit from such serious coughing, there was a single white flower petal in his hand. For a moment, Remus stared at the petal while the pain in his lungs died away. His throat was left with only a small tickle of discomfort. Carefully, Remus picked up the petal with two fingers. "What the fuck?" He asked the flower petal. And when it didn't respond he asked it again, "What the fuck!?"

Remus was usually never caught off his guard but he was then. Though he did eat flowers a few days ago while he was in the Imagination with Patton, none of them had petals like the one he had hacked up. It was too big to be any daisy petal and it certainly did not look like Queen Anne's lace and those were the flowers that he had mainly munched on that day, along with some dandelions and violets, all from the assorted flowers in the field he had Imagined for him and Patton to make flower crowns in. In a way, the petal disturbed Remus, and that was saying something because little disturbed him.

Leaving his wheelbarrow of body parts behind, Remus exited the Imagination with the flower petal in hand. He racked his brain to what coughing up a flower petal could mean when it hit him.

_ Hanahaki disease. _

Remus wouldn’t have even known what it was had it not been for Thomas’ angsty emo phase in high school. Back then he and Virgil had a bit more control over Thomas without him even knowing it. Punk music always blasting, frequent trips to Hot Topic, and of course angsty fanfiction. Remus had subconsciously given Thomas a love for the Hanahaki disease trope. It gave him an outlet to be gorey and gross without upsetting anyone because it was hidden more or less under the gross romantic shit. Remus loved those angsty fanfictions that Thomas would read at 3AM on school nights and he loved it when he could inspire Thomas enough to write them himself. He especially loved the stories where the character who was stupid enough to catch feelings died by suffocation of flowers when the object of their affection did not return their feelings, particularly when the character had a  _ really  _ bloody death by choking on bloodied blossoms and thorns.

The old memories of those fanfictions, and a notably good nightmare inspired by them where Thomas had Hanahaki himself over his first gay crush, actually made Remus smile to himself on the edge of the Imagination; but then his smile faded as he remembered why he was thinking about those Hanahaki disease fanfictions.  _ It was because he had it.  _ That was a hard thing for him to wrap his head around, a hard thing to believe, because Remus didn’t  _ love  _ anyone.

Looking down at the flower petal in his hand, Remus opened the door that led to and from the Imagination and stepped out of it into the central hallway of the Mind Palace. In most of those fanfictions Thomas had read, usually the flower that a person choked to death on had something to do with whom they were in love with. But a white flower- it just didn’t make Remus think of any of the other sides or  _ anyone  _ for that matter. Remus didn’t even like flowers- well, that was a lie. He only liked carrion flowers because they smelled like dead bodies when they bloomed and because they looked cool. But Remus didn’t like flowers besides those, he didn’t know shit about them, and he much less knew what the other sides’ favourite flowers were.

And although Remus didn’t believe he was in love with anyone, he was still curious as hell to figure out who he was in love with. But with his lack of information on flowers, there was only one person who he knew to go to to find out more about whatever flower was digging its root system into the tender tissue of his lungs and that person was his brother Roman. Remus didn’t want to go to his brother, but he knew the language of flowers (Roman got that information in their split while Remus got the language of poisons) and for some reason unknown to Remus he knew the others’ favourite flowers as well. If anyone could help Remus figure out his weird flower problem, it was Roman.

Holding the flower petal high like it was something special and not a flower petal from a blossom blooming in his lungs, Remus turned down the hall that would take him to Roman’s room. Then when he arrived at his door, he barged in without knocking.

Roman was sitting in bed in his Beauty and the Beast onesie with the book  _ Carry On  _ open in his lap when Remus stepped into his room uninvited. “You could knock,” He said tiredly, not even looking up from his book to see who it was. After a second he closed his book and glared at Remus, gesturing around his room with the book. “What if I was with Virgil?”

“Pff,” With a roll of his eyes, Remus strolled over to Roman’s bed and plopped himself down. “Then he’d probably thank me for saving him from your whiny ass.”

“Shut up,” Roman grabbed one of his many pillows and threw it at Remus. “What do you want?”

Swatting away the pillow with his free hand, Remus held up the flower petal with his other hand. “What is this?”

Leaning forward, Roman squinted at the petal. “A flower petal?”

“No shit, bottom.” Remus waved the flower petal in the air and handed it to Roman. “I mean, what type of flower is it?”

“ _ Bottom? Bottom? Bottom!”  _ Gasping offendedly, Roman took the petal and stuck his tongue out at Remus without even giving the petal a second glance. “At least I’m getting some,  _ virgin.”  _ He looked Remus up and down then smirked, “Why do you think Virgil is  _ always  _ coming to my room?”

Unphased, Remus took the pillow Roman had thrown at him earlier and tossed it right back at his face. “Probably to marvel at the world’s smallest cock, which you have.”

With a yelp, Roman threw his arm over his face to protect it from the power of the pillow. “You bitch,” He muttered under his breath, sitting back up. Finally, he looked down at the flower petal. “Where’d you get this anyways? You don’t even  _ like  _ flowers.”

“I don’t like you either but here I am anyways.” Shrugged Remus, moving closer to Roman to look at the petal in his hand. “The Imagination with Patton a few days ago. The flower field.”

Scrunching up his nose in confusion, Roman looked up at Remus. “What? I helped you make that field since the only flowers you can make are those gross smelling Vileplume look-alikes.”

“Carrion flowers, get to the point.”

Roman rolled his eyes and motioned toward the flower petal. “This is a peony petal.”

“And what’s that got to do with the price of tea in China?”

Giving an annoyed sigh, Roman carefully put the peony petal back into Remus’ hand. “We didn’t make any peony plants, there were none there.” He looked at Remus carefully for a moment. “Where’d you really get it?”

“Patton,” Remus lied. He didn’t know why he picked him, but Patton was the first person who came to mind. “Patton gave it to me.”

After looking at Remus skeptically for a second longer, Roman finally looked away. “Makes sense. Those are his favourite flowers, he really likes the smell.” He laid back against all of his pillows, putting the one that was tossed between him and Remus in his lap. “Whenever we have tea parties in the Imagination, I always make sure to have an arrangement of them at the table.”

Hearing that the petal that he had coughed up came from Patton’s favourite flower made Remus’ mouth go dry and his throat itch. “And what do they mean?” He choked out, suppressing a cough.

“What do you mean?”

“In your stupid flower language! What do they mean?” Spat Remus, he could feel his chest shaking with the effort it took not to cough.

Hesitantly, Roman reached out, “Wait, Remus, are you alright?”

“I will be when you tell me the meaning of the fucking flower!” In his hand, Remus crushed the single peony petal.

Even though he looked concerned, Roman stopped. He dropped his hand, “They usually mean…. Romance, compassion, a happy marriage.” He said feebly, “Though I’m still one to prefer red roses. Call me old fashioned, but they’re just so much better if you ask me.”

“I didn’t ask,” Remus said quickly, standing up. “Thanks,” He turned around, holding the crushed petal in his fist as he left Roman’s room.

“No problem…”

Remus felt his throat itching like mad as he stepped into the hall outside Roman’s room, but he didn’t dare cough there unless Roman heard him through the door or one of the other sides found him there choking on flower petals. Instead he sunk out and reappeared in his room. As soon as he was in his own room though, Remus was hacking violently.

While blindly stumbling across his room to his bed, Remus was coughing so hard that he felt like a pack-a-day smoker of ten years who just had walked up five flights of steps because the elevator in their apartment building was out of order. The coughing passed quickly, but only after Remus vomited four new peony petals into his hand.

“Note to self,” Remus gasped, dropping the petals carelessly to the floor. “Don’t hold back the coughing.” He wiped the corner of his mouth on his wrist and fell back into his bed.

“So I’m in love with Patton,” Murmured Remus, looking up at his cobweb spun, stone ceiling. Thinking about it, Remus wasn’t surprised that he needed a murderous plant to point out his love. He was… More than clueless about that sort of thing. He never understood it. If another one of the sides was gushing about their boyfriend, Remus couldn’t relate to them; and honestly he never noticed if two of the others were dating unless he was actually told that they were together.

Remus wasn’t like Roman, but that was more than easily visible. Roman, Roman was the one who could tell when a side was in love. He was the romantic one afterall. But Remus? Remus couldn’t do that. Remus was the opposite to Roman in that way, and while he couldn’t tell when another side was having romantic feelings he could tell if they were having lustful ones. That being said, Remus’ inability to tell when others were in love went as far as himself. But now that the peony plant in his lungs had told him he was in love… Well, he could finally see it.

Remus had been spending an increasing amount of time with Patton as of late, their trip into the Imagination to make flower crowns just proved that fact. Patton hadn’t even asked Remus to make him that flower field… It had been Remus’ idea, he had done it to surprise Patton, and boy howdy had it worked. Patton had been so happy by seeing the seemingly limitless field of flowers that he had thrown his arms around Remus in what was the best hug that Remus had ever experienced. Not to say there was much competition for that, none of the other sides were very touchy with him. Patton was the only one who had ever really hugged him- and that had only started once Janus had been accepted.

But when Patton hugged Remus, it felt like his very breath had been knocked out of him. Not even because Patton had squeezed it out of him either, but because Remus just enjoyed being hugged by Patton  _ that  _ much. And when Patton had begun to make flower crowns, all Remus could do was stare at him all the while munching on his own flowers. He loved the little expressions Patton made, how he stuck his tongue out as he worked, or how he gasped quietly every time he found ‘the perfect’ flower, or how he smiled each time he showed Remus his progress to ask how it looked. What really affected Remus that day, however, was when Patton had finished his first flower crown. Before Remus could ever register what Patton was doing, Patton had popped the flower crown on his head and called him beautiful.

Remus was sure his heart had stopped when Patton did that. It wasn’t even because Patton was the first person to ever call him beautiful… but how he  _ said  _ it _.  _ You could say anything to anybody and it wouldn’t mean shit if you didn’t sound like you actually meant it. But Patton, the way he said it- the way he  _ looked  _ at him… Remus could feel that he meant it.

“Oh wow,” Remus said to himself, half amused and half irritated at the fact that he had been blind to his own love for Patton for probably a long time. “I really do love him.” But then Remus remembered what those flowers growing in his lungs meant, he frowned. “But he doesn’t love me.”

The little amusement Remus had from finally figuring out that he loved Patton after so long quickly dissiapted. Patton didn’t love Remus and that was why he had killer flowers using his lungs as cheap potting soil. Why he would inevitably die strangled by his own feelings that he wasn’t even aware of until moments ago. It was so painfully ironic, more ironic than Remus cared for. The two things he loved- an old fanfiction trope and Patton would be the things to kill him.

Remus laughed, but he didn’t find the situation funny. He just didn’t know what to do.

Sitting up from his bed, Remus looked down at the discarded peony petals on the floor. He stared at them for a long moment before sliding off his bed and gathering them all into his palm.

“Romance, compassion, and a happy marriage.” Mumbled Remus as he put each of the perfect flower petals into his hand. All the things those damned peonies represented and he wouldn’t get to experience any of them. “Jesus-fucked-up-the-ass-with-a-cross, I hate irony.” He stared at the last flower petal, crushed and pathetic looking. He picked it up too. Remus held the four perfect petals in one hand and the ruined one in his other hand. Looking between them, he felt like shit.

“Four perfect petals and one strange one that no one wants because it’s dirty and bad… Where have I seen this before?” Remus asked himself. He knew why he would die of Hanahaki disease, because Patton would never want some crushed up flower petal when he could have a perfect one. Because Patton would never want to date Remus when there were better sides for him- better sides than Remus. Because everyone was a better side than Remus. Everyone was better than Remus.

Even though Remus was feeling dismal of the fact that he would die, dying wasn’t what made him sad. What made him sad was that dying meant there were only so many more times he would get to see Patton’s smile, to hear his laughter, to taste his cooking, to feel the warmth of his touch. But all the way to death Remus would be haunted- mocked, by the scent of peonies. He would be limited in his time spent with Patton but he would never be without peonies. He decided then that he fucking hated those flowers.

Moving all of the flower petals into one hand. Remus stood up from the floor and dropped them on his nightstand. Then he yanked open the drawer on the stand. A black mass of indistinguishable insects buzzed and crawled out of the drawer, their odd collective movements similar in appearance to that of a beating heart. But oddly, Remus was not in the mood for his mob of bugs. He wanted fireflies, and so fireflies they became.

Now that the drawer was empty of bugs, Remus could see what he was looking for: a single white candlestick. He pulled it out and planted it on his nightstand as the fireflies moved about his room. Some took to crawling about the stone floor and walls while a few took to the air, all of them blinking out of sync like cheap holiday lights. A single firefly landed in Remus’ hair, but he didn’t notice nor care as it crawled carefully over his messy curls and settled upon his single white lock of hair.

With a snap of his fingers there was a small orange flame on Remus’ thumb. He used it to light the candle and then extinguished it by licking it. The flickering light of the candle combined with the soft light of the fireflies gave the room an unusual comforting glow. The firefly in Remus’ hair blinked slowly as he sat down on his bed, the fireflies there moved away from him and under the covers.

Carefully, Remus picked up one of the four pristine peony petals. It was soft under his calloused thumb and the light from the candle shown through it, making it’s white colour turn into a soft cream. Even though his mouth was dry, Remus swallowed and held the petal above the candle flames. Soon the little flame reached up and grabbed a hold of the petal, enveloping it and burning it in a second. The flames burned Remus’ fingers too but he didn’t even feel them, he was more focused on how quickly the petal burned. Once there was nothing left of the petal he grabbed another one, and a third, and finally the fourth perfect petal.

They all burned.

“Not so perfect anymore, huh?” Remus asked quietly to the petals that were gone. He pulled his hand away from the candle and finally noticed the heat in his fingertips. He touched his cheek with his hot fingers and closed his eyes. From staring at the candle so long, he could see the glowing imprint of it behind his closed eyes. His fingers were warm on his cheek and his chest felt heavy, but if it was heavy with blooming flowers or just the ineffable sadness that came once you accepted death, he did not know. It was probably both.

Remus stayed like that for a long time, not even just thinking but living. If he was still he could hear the whispers of the candle flame, smell the faint scent of burning peonies- like a wildfire in a flower garden, and even feel the peonies growing in his lungs. He wondered how many blossoms would grow inside of him until he died, how many petals he would hack up, or just how many times he would get to be with Patton again.

At the thought of Patton, Remus’ eyes fluttered open. The first thing he saw was the soiled petal on his nightstand. He picked it up. It was dirty, it was wrinkled, it was ripped, and it was just barely identifiable as a peony petal anymore.

Remus held it to the candle flame and watched it burn like the rest. He continued to hold his fingers over the flame even when the petal was gone, and it was finally then that he felt the flames scorch his flesh. “So we all burn the same.” He said, retracting his fingers away from the candle. “But we aren’t treated the same, that’s funny.”

Then, without warning, Remus was crying. He knew how he would burn.

It would be the first and the last time Remus would cry for himself and his fate.

**Author's Note:**

> Hahahhahahaha angst. I'm uploading this and then going to bed because writing people accepting their own death sure is tiring!
> 
> I hope this is what you wanted when I said I was writing this AU, Star ;)
> 
> Comments are very much appreciated!!!


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